The Life and Times of Dean and Cas
by elledestiel
Summary: Ficlets about Dean and Castiel. Sam is there too, of course. Mostly humor, mostly me putting the boys in fun situations, and mostly me just keeping myself busy with writing. Enjoy. (I keep to the language of the show.)
1. Chapter 1

Castiel stopped at the intersection. He squinted his eyes and looked up towards the sky. It was a beautiful summer day, all blue with only a spattering of white clouds. The lights changed and the cars stopped. Castiel crossed the street, his trench coat blowing behind him.

He halted. There, at the corner of the sidewalk, sat a fluffy white puppy. The puppy looked up, head tilted to the right with eyes wide open. Castiel stared in confusion. It reminded him of someone; a lost soul with a look of longing, waiting for someone to take pity on him. Cas looked away and continued on down the sidewalk.

Moments later Cas was forced to stop by a high pitched yelp. He turned around to face the thing. The fluffy four legged creature was following him. Cas continued on home, desperately trying to ignore it even though it kept right at his heels.

"Where's the pie?" Dean was sitting at the kitchen table. His laptop was open and AC/DC was coming through the speakers. He took a swig of his beer.

"I didn't get it," Cas replied.

"You and Sammy always forget my pie," Dean mumbled.

Castiel walked further into the kitchen.

"What's this?" Dean asked, pointing at the white dog that waltz right in behind Cas.

"I don't know. It just followed me."

Dean bent down to get on level with the thing that followed his friend home. The dog tilted his head, eyes wide and smiled the only way a dog can – all teeth and pink tongue. Dean tilted his head. He was confused. A lost puppy had found his way to his kitchen. He reached out and touched the dogs' neck to feel for a collar. There was none. Dean stood up. "No collar. He's a stray."

"How do you know it's a he?" Cas asked.

"I just have a feeling," Dean said. "Call it a, guy's intuition."

"How can you be so sure?"

Dean bent down and picked up the puppy. He held it out in front of him like it was a grenade without the pin. "See," Dean said, "it has all its… parts."

"What are we going to do with it?"

"Well, it ain't staying here." Dean set the puppy back on the linoleum. The puppy pranced around the kitchen, stopped in front of the fridge, lifted its little leg and began to pee. "Oh, come on!" The puppy then sat down and stared up at Dean, waiting for a reward.

* * *

"I'm confused," Castiel said.

"What is so confusing?"

"Why do these women run around in slow motion?" Castiel asked. Dean sighed and shook his head. "They run around slowly, in red bathing suits at a beach."

"It's Baywatch."

"That means nothing to me."

"It's a show with hot women in bathing suits. What's not to get?" Dean took a sip of his beer. They continued to watch the television in silence. The puppy pranced into the room and hopped on the couch between Dean and Cas. "I told you to get rid of that thing."

"It's not that easy," Cas said. "I told it to leave and it just sat there."

"You didn't think to kick it out? Take it to a homeless dog place or something?"

Cas looked at Dean quizzically. Dean sighed and continued to watch the television.

"We should probably name the little guy," Dean said. "I don't think he's going anywhere any time soon."

"Cotton? Fluffy?"

"What, are you ten?" Dean took another swig of his beer. "He needs a tough name. Especially 'cause he looks like girly dog."

"Max? Lucky?"

Dean looked appalled. "We're not naming that thing, Lucky."

"Fine, Dean. You name it."

"Let me think about it." Dean downed the last bit of his beer and placed the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of him. "Angus."

"It doesn't look like an Angus."

"Better than naming it, Lucky."

"Fine," Cas said, "but I want no part of this. You named him, he's your responsibility."

"Hey," Dean said, "he followed your ass home."

Cas reached over and scratched the dog behind his ear. The puppy jumped up and cuddled on his lap, wanting more attention. "Okay."

"Okay, then," Dean said. "We're both proud owners of a freakin' dog." Dean leaned back in the couch. The last thing he needed was another child to take care of. Sam and Castiel were enough for one man to keep track of, let alone adding a helpless puppy into the mix.

* * *

The next day Dean and Castiel took little Angus to the pet store. If they were to keep the puppy, they needed supplies. Dean placed Angus into the basket of the cart and pushed him around like a child. Cas stopped inside the store and was amazed. He couldn't fathom a whole building dedicated to these… animals.

Dean turned down the dog toy aisle. He took random toys of the shelf, tennis balls, squeaky toys and a little pink stuffed pig. The pig made Dean smile. It was rather cute.

Two young girls came up to Dean. "Isn't he just a little cutie?" Dean smiled and then remembered the dog was in the cart. "What's his name?"

"Angus."

"Isn't Angus just a cute little guy?" The second girl was doting on the puppy, scratching him behind his ear. Angus' little tail swished happily back and forth. The girls walked on and Dean craned his neck to see the two girls leave. Cas finally made his way to Dean.

"You know, having a dog ain't half bad."

"Yesterday you wanted me to get rid of it."

"And today I found out that chicks dig a man with a dog."

"They ignored you, didn't they?"

"Shut up," Dean said as he pushed the cart down the aisle. Dean went towards the puppy food. He was baffled. There were too many choices. The first bag he came across looked good enough. Well, the dog on the front seemed to be happy. Then next on the list was a dog collar and lead. Dean went right to the studded leather collars and found a black lead to match. It suited the little guy. A tough look for such a frilly dog.

* * *

Sam stopped by later that night. He brought with him the day's paper and a six pack of beer. It was Dean's favorite beer, a bargaining tool to get his brother to come with him on this latest hunting case. When Sam entered the house he was stopped short.

"What the hell is this?"

"Angus." Castiel replied. He was sitting on the couch watching the television. Baywatch was playing and Cas had a look of concentration on his face. The show still baffled him. Cas couldn't wrap his mind around why these women were considered to be lifeguards. Skimpy bathing suits weren't going to get them very far if they had to rescue someone out of the water.

"What?"

"Dean named him."

"Where is, Dean?"

"I don't know."

"Okay," Sam said. He flung the paper on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen to put the beer in the fridge. The dog followed. "Angus, is it?" Sam asked as he bent down to see the dog better. "Why in the world would Dean allow you into his place?"

"He followed Cas home."

Sam stood up to face his brother. "And you decided to keep him?"

"He's like you," Dean said, "keeps coming back."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"No, really, he's not that bad. After the peeing and pooping all over the carpet."

"I still can't believe that you have a dog now."

"Well," Dean said, "believe it."

Dean opened up two beers and handed his brother one. Sam walked back into the living room and Dean followed. Castiel hadn't moved from his spot on the couch.

"You're still watching Baywatch?" Dean had to ask. After seeing it the other night Castiel decided to keep watching it, episode after episode.

"The plot line is vague but I can see the allure," Cas said. "This blonde woman is rather buxom."

Dean took a swig, "Of course she is." Dean turned to his brother, "So, Sammy, what brings you here?"

"A case. It's on the front page of the paper." Sam slid the newspaper across the coffee table towards Dean. On the cover sat the title in bold black lettering: Dick of Ages.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was hunched over and was rifling through the hotel fridge. A six pack of beer, a bottle of whiskey, bread and a few deli containers of meat and cheese were all that sat inside. Sandwich it is, Dean thought. He turned around and closed the door with his foot. Dean was startled and almost dropped his lunch out of his arms. "Can't you phone a guy before you pop in?"

Castiel was standing in the middle of the kitchen area of the hotel room. The first couple buttons on his shirt were undone and his tie sat backwards and lose around his neck. "Sorry," he said, "I just had to stop by to see you."

"What's up? Angel war going poorly, you need me to gank a demon?" Dean opened the bag of bread and took out two pieces. He then popped off the container lid that held the sliced ham.

"Not quite," Castiel said.

Dean put the ham on a piece of bread. He looked up at his friend. "Then why are you here?"

"I need you to help me."

"If it doesn't have anything to do with a job," Dean said as he took out a piece of cheese, "then I can't help you."

"No," Cas said. "I just have this odd feeling."

"Like…"

"Like I can't figure out what's wrong." Dean looked at Castiel in confusion. "I've been wandering around the city all day and I can't shake this feeling."

"So," Dean smooched the second piece of bread on top of the cheese, "you came here to see if you could get rid of it." He took a bite.

"Precisely."

"I think you're bored," Dean said behind a mouthful of sandwich.

"Bored?"

"You're bored," Dean swallowed, "you're looking for something to do… you need some entertainment in your life…"

"Then what can we do?"

The men stood in silence. Dean continued to take large bites out of his lunch and downed it with a swig of beer. "What's one thing you want to do today?"

"With you?"

"Sure," Dean said. "With me."

Castiel thought about it. Human ways alluded him. He wanted to know more about how Dean and Sam lived their lives, without having his angel abilities. The only way he thought he could live a more human life was through… certain activities. Things the Winchesters seemed to do quite often. He didn't know how to put this into words. Cas said it the only way he could. "I want to play."

* * *

Dean looked up at Castiel. Their eyes locked. No words were said and none needed to be exchanged. Dean was stock straight in his chair and Cas sat with his hands folded in his lap. Time seemed to stand still as the men sat at the kitchen table. Only mere minutes had passed. Dean's eyes began to water.

"Dammit," Dean said. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger.

"Does that mean I win?" Cas asked.

"Yes," Dean said in defeat.

Sam was standing in the doorway. "What are you two doing?"

"Staring contest," Cas said. "I won."

Sam couldn't believe they were playing such a childish game. He hadn't even had the pleasure to do the same with his brother since they were kids. Bobby had always put them to bed early when their dad left them for weeks on end. Sleepless nights together seem to always lead to staring contests, roshambo, and games of guess what monster lives in the closet. The latter always consisted of describing a monster of which had to be guessed by the other. It was never fair because Sam, who did most of the research for his father and brother, always won. "What's your next game? I want in." Sam brought over a couple of beers from the fridge and sat at the table.

"Well, we played a bit of everything."

"My favorite is Uno," Cas said.

"He just likes screaming, 'Uno', at the top of his lungs," Dean said.

Sam said, "If we're all going to keep drinking, I have a game we all could play."

"Go get the whiskey." Dean had a feeling he knew where this was heading.

* * *

"Okay, Cas," Sam said, "I want you to strip down to just your tie and boxers and go to the next hotel room, knock on their door and ask them if they've heard the word of God." The boys were drunk by this point. Even Castiel drank to try and keep on level with the Winchesters. It took a lot for all three to get to this state of intoxication.

"Why do I have to do this again?"

"It's truth or dare," Dean said, "and you picked dare."

"Yeah, Cas, and you have to do the dare," Sam said.

"It's the law."

"Fine," Cas said as he stood up. He took off his trench and then started to unbutton his pants.

Dean started the cat calling. "Woo, take it off!" Sam got the laughing fits at this point. He was cracking up so hard that he was starting to have difficulty catching his breath.

Cas hurriedly striped down. He gulped the last bit of his whiskey in hopes that it would make this ordeal a bit easier. Sam and Dean followed Castiel out into the hall.

"This room," Dean pointed to the left, "I hear them at it every night."

Sam was finally composing himself. It wouldn't fly if their neighbor heard his laughing the whole time. Cas knocked on the door. The neighbor, a portly man in his fifties, opened the door to see a sight that he wasn't expecting. Castiel was standing in front of him half naked. His backwards blue tie, Christmas red boxers and black socks were all that he had on. Before the man could say anything Cas blurted out, "Have you heard about the word of God?" The man slammed the door in his face. Castiel could hear him mumbling something about drunken idiots knocking on doors at three in the morning.

Dean and Sam were laughing so hard that they almost fell on the floor. Dean had to hold himself against the frame of the door and Sam was leaning on his brother. They couldn't believe that they could get their friend to do something this insane. Cas was turning as red as his boxers. He was embarrassed at having picked dare. He couldn't have expected to do something this humiliating. As soon as he could he put his clothes back on. Cas couldn't give the guys any more satisfaction or any more ammo for his humiliation.

"Okay, okay," Dean said, trying to compose himself. "It's your turn, Cas."

Fully clothed, Castiel sat back in his seat and decided on who the next victim was going to be. "Dean," Cas said, "truth or dare."

"Truth." Dean sat back in his chair. Sam stood, bracing himself against the back of his seat.

"Why did you take Lisa at her word when she said Ben isn't your kid?"

"I'm done playing," Dean stood up and made his way to the fridge. He took out a beer and popped the top off by hand.

"Dean," Sam said, "just answer the question."

"Why should I? He's not my kid."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked. "He looks and acts like a little you."

"He's not mine, just drop it," Dean said in frustration. "I'm done playing these stupid games." Dean took one gulp of his newly opened beer. He placed the bottle on the table, grabbed his coat and car keys and left Sam and Castiel in the hotel room.

"Baby," Castiel said under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean couldn't resist. He had to find out more. After learning about the Supernatural books written by the prophet, Chuck, and having been to the very first con, he couldn't believe how ridiculous people could get in a fandom. Dean had to find out more about why Sam's and his lives are so interesting for people. They were just doing their jobs that they grew up into. Saving the world was just a part of it. It was nothing to get obsessed over.

Dean typed in 'Supernatural' into the search engine. The page count was near the million mark. It baffled Dean how many sites were created concerning the books, concerning their lives. He scrolled through the first couple pages. They all seemed to be fan sites created by young girls both in high school and in college. The notion of young girls going spastic over him didn't add any appeal. Even hot chicks could be mental.

One site in particular peeked his interest. He clicked. The site opened to a slew of links. Each title was followed by a username and a quick description of what the link contained. There was one phrase in particular that caused Dean to question the sanity of these fans.

Castiel walked into the motel room. Dean looked up from behind his laptop. "Did you know about these crazies writing stories about us?"

"What?" Cas asked.

"Fan Fiction," Dean said. "It's all these young girls living their fantasies through stories they're writing on binges of candy and Mountain Dew."

"That doesn't sound healthy."

"Bunch of future cat hoarding spinsters," Dean said.

"I meant their choices in food."

"Yeah, well," Dean said, "there's just one thing I'm having difficulty with."

Cas sat in the chair opposite Dean. "What's that?"

"They keep pairing me with," Dean cringed, "with you." He downed a rather large gulp of his whiskey. It was hard for him swallow the idea of him with Castiel in any other way than as friends. Let alone him being with anything that doesn't have breasts.

"Why would they do that?"

"These message boards seem to think that all our innuendo talk and the bond that we share is more than what it seems to be," Dean said.

"Is it?"

"No," Dean protested. "It isn't."

"I'm curious what they're writing about."

Dean took another sip. "No. You don't."  
"Try me."

"Fine," Dean said. He clicked around on a website and pulled up the first story that caught his eye. He began to read out loud. "Then Dean reached towards Castiel, their eyes locked and time seemed to stand still. Their love was forbidden. An angel with a dark past and a hunter that he raised from Perdition. It was the act that bonded them as more than just friends and closer than brothers." Dean paused. "You know what," he said, "this is a load of crap."

"What if it isn't?"

Dean almost spit his whiskey out as Castiel spoke. "What…"

Cas cut his friend off, "What if she's the next Stephanie Meyer?"

"And what, you're Sparkles and I'm that stoned chick?"

"No," Cas said, "I just mean that what if she gets published in the future? She might not be that terrible of a writer."

"Balls," was all Dean could say.

"Bobby has rubbed off on you."

"Let's just drop this conversation."

"Fine," Castiel said.

Dean closed his laptop and sat back in his chair.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was behind the wheel of his beloved Impala. His left hand was gripping the top of the steering wheel and his favorite Led Zeppelin cassette was blasting through the speakers. Castiel was sitting shotgun and Dean's younger, taller brother was sitting in the back. Green signs dotted the highway and became blurs as Dean drove on. They were headed towards the next major city, Detroit, on a murder case that may or may not lead them to their next hunt.

Sam spoke up. "Can't you slow down?"

"We're burning daylight, Sammy," Dean said. "We have to get there yesterday."

"He's right, Dean," Castiel said. "You're pushing ninety."

Dean adjusted in the driver's seat, and switched his hands on the wheel. "Why do you care about slowing down? You're always flying in and out of the room."

"But, my vessel," Cas began to say.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered. He eased up on the pedal and the Impala began to decrease its speed. The boys sat quietly with Led Zeppelin playing in the background.

"Carnival of Wonder," Castiel muttered under his breath.

"What?" Dean asked.

"That sign we passed," Cas replied, "Carnival of Wonder. The greatest carnival in the Midwest."

"No," Sam exclaimed. Cas turned around with a questioning look on his face. "We're not going to a damn carnival."

"Why not?"

Dean started to laugh. "Sammy here is afraid of clowns."

"The funny men in oversized costumes with face paint?" Cas was confused.

"And the murderous looks they give you behind those white faces and red noses," Sam added.

"They're supposed to bring joy to children, yes?" Castiel asked.

"Not when they turn around and murder your family," Sam said as he slumped in the backseat with his arms crossed. "We're not going."

Dean turned on his right blinker and eased into the next exit. "Oh, yes we are." He had to torture Sammy. It was an older brother's duty. A sign was posted at the exit for Carnival of Wonder. Two happy children flanked a clown who was holding on to multicolored balloons. Sam cringed at the thought of coming into contact with these horrors. He could handle ten demons in one room, but one clown was enough for him to scream uncle.

The carnival was set off in the middle of a field, two miles from the highway exit. A Ferris wheel loomed high above the rides, food stands and people who filled up the usually vacant farm land. Parents and their children walked hand in hand enjoying the warm, sunny Saturday. Dean pulled the car into the lot and parked his baby as far from the other cars as he could. He wasn't willing to let some hick in a Ford truck scratch its exterior.

"You coming, Sammy?" Dean turned around and asked his brother. "You might have some fun."

"Fine," Sam said. The only thing he could think of was of being surrounded by multicolored wigs and oversized plastic shoes. The boys walked towards the mix of smells that emanate from carnivals; sugar, corndogs, woodchips and vomit. Sam was hoping this detour wouldn't last long. Maybe he could avoid the clowns if he tried hard enough.

"What do we do at a carnival?" Castiel asked. He had never been to one before.

"We could play some games, go on rides or eat our way through the place," Dean said.

"I want to play games," Cas said.

"Don't you always want to play games?"

"Yes," Cas replied, "but these are different, yes?"

"We can play that," Dean stopped and pointed. A row of game booths sat in front of them. The one Dean liked had rifles lined up facing a wall of targets. Each target was set at different intervals with the easiest in the front and the more difficult towards the back. This seemed like a cake walk to the Winchesters. "Sammy, I'll bet you a hundred bucks that I make each shot."

Sam rolled his eyes. "So, I have to bet against you?"

"Or, just buy me a pie." Dean walked over and sat in a stool at the booth. "I'll win you that teddy bear, Cas." Dean pointed to the purple stuffed bear that hung overhead. It had on a white bow tie, and a happy smile. The carnie mumbled something as he gave Dean three white balls to load into the rifle. The trigger pulled back a spring that let the balls fly towards the targets. It was more luck than skill. Dean aimed for the closest target and fired. The ball shot out and clinked against the metal target, sending it vertical. On the second shot Dean gave it just enough gusto to replicate the first. The third target was the trickiest. The spring would either give him enough force to send the ball to where he needed it to hit, or it would fail and he would lose the game. It all depended on whether it was rigged or not. Dean fired and nailed the ball dead in the center. He threw up both his arms in victory. "That's how you do it!" The carnie gave Dean his prize. Dean held out the purple bear for Cas with a large grin on his face.

Sam shook his head and laughed at the childish behavior of his older brother. "Can we get going?" Sam asked.

"Don't you want to get a sugar high and ride the Matador?" Dean asked.

"No, I really don't."

"I do," Cas said as he raised his hand.

"Onward!" Dean said as he walked towards the cotton candy stand. After inhaling the sugar, Dean and Cas rounded on the ride section of the carnival.

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. Off in the distance a group of kids surrounded his worst nightmare. A clown was entertaining the children and blowing up balloon animals. It was frightening. If only these kids could see the monster for what it was.

The Matador went around in circles as the cars rocked and titled towards the center. A perfect ride for right after eating a bunch of cotton candy. Dean sat on the inside and Cas sat next to him. The men raised their hands as the ride took them around and around. Dean was enjoying himself. This wasn't something that he always got to do as a kid and spending it with his best friend made it all the better.

Sam finally got his legs back. He walked on towards the rides, figuring he'd find his brother there. The ones lower to the ground were a good place as any to start. Dean's fear of flying could also be a fear of heights, for all he knew. Sam found Dean and Cas, arms up to the sky, screaming their lungs out on the Matador. They looked like school children on summer vacation. Sam couldn't help but smile at his brother. It was a change of pace to see Dean this happy and carefree.


End file.
